Two in the Morning
by magratj
Summary: It all seemed perfectly rational at two in the morning.


Title: Two in the Morning

Author: meg

Disclaimer: Not mine. According to my DVDs, it belongs to Alliance Atlantis. 

Rating: PG for some minor language. 

Spoilers: None, I think

Summary: "So here I am. At your place at two in the morning."

Notes: An exercise in method writing! Seriously, I was drunk when I wrote Sara's part on New Year's Eve. And Thespia was drunk when she did the initial edit. That will explain a lot, I'm sure! Everyone seems to have found me trying to spell inebriation while drunk an amusing story.  

Thanks to Thespia for the beta, although she didn't do all of it, so any mistakes are my own.

Part 1

I'm drunk. 

Shouldn't be surprising really. It's New Year's Eve. Alcohol is certainly considered a part of the evening's festivities. So why shouldn't I be drunk? Particularly after the twelve months I've had. 

Maybe the next twelve months will be better. Though I doubt it. 

I'm drunk. 

Which is probably why I've found myself on your doorstep at two in the morning. 

I'm fairly sure you're home. Since we both worked Christmas, we've had New Year's off. So unless you received and invite to a party I didn't know about when I left work yesterday, you should be here. 

The party I was at was cool. I think that much is obvious given my current state of inebriation. There was a cute guy trying to hit on me for a while. He seemed nice enough. There was one simple problem though. 

He wasn't you. 

So again, back to why I'm here at two in the morning. 

There's a part of me that brought me here that has finally built up the courage to tell you how I feel. TO say those words I so want to say. But there's still a part of me that is hesitating - refusing to knock on your door. I know you're awake. You once told Catherine that you don't really sleep on your night off. 

So here I am. At your place at two in the morning. 

I don't get the chance to knock though - you must have heard me. You open the door, confusion on your face. Nothing new where I'm concerned. 

"Hi," I say, in my drunken slur. "Mind if I crash here?"

That wasn't right. There's apparently a problem between my brain and my mouth. 

Part 2

Grissom had long ago stopped being surprised by most things. One can only work in the field of law enforcement for so long without becoming slightly jaded. 

However, finding Sara on his doorstep at two in the morning on New Year's was not something he was expecting. 

"Sara, what are you doing here?" he asked, confused. 

She walked past him and sat on his lounge. Grissom wondered if she had even heard him. 

"Weren't you at a party?" he tried again. 

"Yeah. There was a cute guy there."

Confusion passed across Grissom's face, but Sara offered no more information. 

"Sara?"

She looked up at him, confused. "Yes?"

"What happened at the party?"

"There was a cute guy there."

"So you said. Did something happen with him?"

"He tried to hit on me."

Grissom was concerned. Had something happened to Sara? Had this man hurt her in any way? Her looked her over quickly, but saw no signs that she was hurt, or that she had been attacked in any way. 

"You didn't like him?"

Sara looked at him blankly. "He wasn't you."

Grissom was dumbstruck. He had no response. 

"Sara, perhaps you should sleep here."

"I think I asked you that already," she said, laying her head on the armrest, and curling her legs up under her. 

Grissom sighed and went to find a blanket for her. Grabbing one from his linen closet, he returned to find her asleep. Sitting down on the coffee table that sat in front of his lounge, he gently removed her shoes, and then laid the blanket over her. As he tucked the blanket in over her shoulders, a traitorous hand reached up to her face and gently brushed a couple of stray strands of hair out of her eyes. His hand still in her hair, he froze. He couldn't do this. For all the reasons he had originally told himself, that he still told himself. 

Yet for the first time, the hurt at the thought of pulling away was unbearable. 

Sighing, he gently withdrew his hand. With any luck, she would forget why she was here. 

Part 3

Even though her eyes where closed, she could tell that it was daylight. The sharp stabbing pain in her head also told her that she was hung over. Yet there was something else about her predicament that was not quite right. As she went to roll over, she suddenly realised that she was on a couch. And it didn't feel like hers. As she tried to remember what had happened last night, she heard someone move near her. Alarmed, she opened her eyes. 

Grissom was sitting in front of her on the coffee table, his expression unreadable. 

'Oh shit' was all Sara could think. 

"Grissom. What the . ." she started. 

"You want an aspirin?" he asked, holding the drug out to her. 

"Thanks," she said gratefully, struggling to sit up. She popped the drug in her mouth, then took the offered glass of water, suddenly realising just how dehydrated she was. 

"Grissom, what am I doing here?"

"I was kind of hoping you could tell me."

Sara looked at him blankly. 

"You don't remember showing up on my doorstep at two am?

"No. That doesn't make any sense. The party was at my apartment complex."

"It was?"

"Yeah, I . . oh shit." She remembered. "Oh my god, Grissom, I am so sorry. I can't believe I -  I just - oh god." She buried her head in her hands to hide her embarrassment. "There's no justifying what I did. I should not have put you in that position. I'll go."

She went to stand, but her stopped her, forcing her to sit back down,. 

"I think you're probably still drunk, Sara. You'll be best to sleep a bit more."

"Okay," she said, a little confused. "Grissom, please, just forget what happened. Please?" she begged as she lay back down. 

Grissom smiled as he stood up. He adjusted the blanket around her neck before reaching up again and gently caressing her cheek. 

"No Sara," he said, leaning forward and gently kissing her on the forehead. "I can't forget." 

Sleep took her before confusion could set in. 

Part 4 

When she woke up again, the house was silent and she could not see any sign of Grissom. Carefully, she sat up, considering her options. She knew that if she left now, without saying a word, he wouldn't mention the incident. When it came to personal issues, Grissom was anything but confrontational. However, her full bladder wasn't letting her go anywhere just yet. Stealing herself against the inevitable weakness of her body that came with being hung over, she stood, and gingerly made her way to the bathroom. 

When Grissom walked back into his house, he was initially worried at Sara's absence. He had not been gone long - just to the corner store for some fresh bread and milk. When he heard noises in the bathroom, however, he knew that there was still time. Smiling to himself, he put his bag of groceries on the kitchen counter, then started to make the coffee he knew she would want. When he heard the bathroom open, he quickly moved to prevent her from leaving. 

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

Sara grimaced, as much from knowing her escape had been thwarted as from the reference to her health. 

"I think I'll survive," she answered. 

"Coffee?"

"That would be wonderful," she said, sitting down at his breakfast bar. 

He turned his back to her as he slowly started to prepare her drink.

"Grissom," she started, but he interrupted. 

"I did some thinking last night, and I came to a conclusion."

Sara didn't speak. She couldn't. 

"I've been unfair to you of late, and you deserve some explanations." He turned and handed her the coffee. "I'm hoping you'll let me make it up to you."

She didn't let herself admit to the glimmer of hope that sparked in her heart. If she did, she'd only end up more hurt than before. 

Grissom steeled himself, straightening his shoulders. "Let me take you out to dinner before shift tonight," he said, piercing her eyes with his gaze. "Let me tell you what you need to know. What you deserve to know. Then, maybe, we can see if there's a way forward for us."

Sara smiled, allowing that glimmer to warm her heart. "That would be nice."

The end. 


End file.
